Dark Days - Darkest Before The DawnChapter 17 free porn video

One call I had almost forgotten to make was to Mario Echeveria, the manager of my hotel in San Antonio, the River Center Marriot.

“Mister McCoy! How wonderful to hear from you again! Are you coming to...”

“Mario, it’s Jack unless I have done something to piss you off. Anyway, listen, I don’t have time for games today. I will be there in a couple of hours but, in the meantime, I need you to work with a man named Tomas LaGrenade, he is supposed to be contacting you shortly. He will explain the special security I need for my visit as well as the extra rooms I will need while I am here. Give him what he needs, Mario, even if it means shutting the hotel down for the week.”

“Mister McCoy! Jack, listen, we couldn’t possibly ... I mean, we have reservations, very influential people ... events planned months in advance...” he sputtered, moving rapidly between excuses without settling on one.

“Mario, don’t panic until you talk to Tomas. Then, whatever he asks for, make it happen. Get them rooms elsewhere, book spaces for the events elsewhere, pay what you need to. You will not suffer for this and you can spend whatever is needed to make this work. I need you to work with me on this, Mario.”

There was a long silence on the other end and I wondered, for a second, if he had fainted or something!

“Of course, Jack. I’ll do whatever is needed. This is, after all, your hotel as much as I like to pretend it is mine.”

“Thanks Mario, I know this has to be a massive pain in the rear for you but it is no exaggeration for me to say that lives hang in the balance. See you in a few hours.”

I made one more call before I landed, getting a hold of Terry. Since I was in town, there was no reason not to meet with him. He would have a dozen things for me to sign, reports for me to read, decisions that had to be made. Usually, when he needed something, he would courier them to me in the Keys and I would do the needful before sending things back. Immediate decisions were usually email and phone but, now that I was here, he was sure to try and get everything he could completed in record time.

Jake’s G550 was directed to look for a ‘Follow Me’ vehicle as it completed its roll out after landing. We exited the runway and were directed away from the main part of the airport and towards the very last hangar at the private aviation side.

The three armored Suburbans, with only temporary drivers, were parked a hundred yards away because the half-dozen men we brought with us insisted that the vehicles be gone over before they came closer. In the meantime, we taxied up towards the hangar and flipped around, facing out where a tug hooked up and pushed the aircraft inside.

The crew exited the plane first, gear bags in hand, and headed for the Suburbans, both to check them out and to take control. We were told to just hang tight for a few minutes while that happened, then we could unload when they were done.

Instead, while we waited, one of the aircrew came back and said there were a half-dozen men in suits who wanted to come on the jet. Only one of our armed security men, who had stayed at the ladder, prevented them from just walking on.

“Did they say what they wanted?” Jake asked, standing up.

“Yes, Sir. One asked for you and the rest wanted to talk to Mister McCoy.”

Well, that caused a bit of an uproar. Dean was adamant about me not going out there until they were checked out and Dave, Deb and even Steph were on his side. Cam said she would do whatever I wanted and Liz just seemed a bit confused by the whole business.

“Let me check IDs and send them on, okay?” Dave said, waving everyone off. I watched Steph and Deb flank him though, as he headed towards the front of the plane.

The first person back on the plane, looking a little confused but smiling, was Terry! Following on his heels, someone I should have expected, Judge Arturo Ramirez. The third man I didn’t know, though he seemed focused on me and the last man had eyes only for Jake, so he must not need to talk to me.

I got a quick man hug from Terry, a warm handshake from the Judge and then turned to the third man.

“I am afraid I don’t know you, sir.” I said, sticking out my hand. “I am Jack McCoy.”

“It is a pleasure, Mister McCoy. I am Shimon Neveh and I have been instructed to give you this.” he reached into his jacket and then froze, his eyes widening a bit but showing no fear. It was impressive, since his movement inside his jacket had caused four guns to come out and a couple more to be visible. I had my G21 out and, while not pointing at him, could be very quickly. Dean and Deb both had guns pointed at Shimon Neveh’s head while the Judge, surprisingly enough, had pushed his jacket back and had his hand on the snub-nosed revolver in his belt. I couldn’t see Steph or Dean, but my money was on them.

Shimon let a small smile show before, moving slowly, he pulled from inside his jacket a thin envelope.

“Please forgive us, Mister Neveh, we are a bit on edge at the moment.” Judge Ramirez said with a chuckle.

“I have been here too long, I think. I should have known better than to reach like that when tensions were high. Even at home that might have gotten me shot.” Shimon said, shaking his head. “I think that envelope explains why you are nervous and why I am here.”

I took the envelope and pulled a single sheet of paper out of it.

‘Vladislav Simonov, 48, oldest of four boys, born in Dnipro, Ukraine, once a lieutenant in the Solntsevskaya Bratva, a well-known mob gang, broke away a decade ago to form the Shevchenkivsky Bratva. Parents and younger brothers deceased, wife deceased.

Entered the United States fourteen days ago aboard a Ukrainian flagged tanker, the Kaztera, in Galveston, Texas, under a forged passport as Mikael Orlov.

Accompanied by seven men, he chartered an aircraft to San Antonio but no further sightings have been reported.

The Ukrainian population in San Antonio is small, but close knit. Though known as being insular, they are also scrupulously legal and apt to turn in one of their own but only if that person threatens the community. Suggest pressure be brought to bear on the community as a whole.’

At the bottom of the text was stapled what was obviously a print of a passport photograph as it had embossing across the chest and neck, but it was remarkably high quality anyway.

When I finished reading the page and getting a nod from the Judge who had been reading over my shoulder, I passed it over to Dave.

“Mister Neveh, while I appreciate the information, I have to ask ... why? Who do you work for?”

“Mister McCoy, I am with the Israeli consulate and I am here to study the raising of cattle in areas that are not very hospitable to man. Your deserts here are not much different from our own. I was asked, by a high-ranking member of the Embassy staff, to deliver that letter. I am a simple messenger.” He said with a smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Yeah, and I am the King of Siam. You knew what was in the envelope, were not really surprised by the guns and, here is the fun part, I have never had any contact with the Israelis, though from what I have read, you are an impressive country. But why is your embassy involved?”

“Ah, of that, I have no clue. It may have been a request from your Department of State, though those would probably have been through the embassy in Washington. Or, perhaps, it was an ally who contacted our embassy? I am afraid I do not know. I was simply told that a young man who has already done many impressive things needed what was in that envelope and would I please deliver it. I have another message, a private one, that may shed light there.” he said, tilting his head towards an empty row of seats.

I followed him to the seats and he spoke very quietly.

“Your men in Key West can focus on your own properties there, the Daley family is being protected.” he said, watching my response closely.

“And I am to take your word for this? They are friends of mine who may be in danger from this Ukrainian mobster.”

“Alan and Debbie are grandniece and grandnephew to General Abraham Cohen who, though retired, still has many friends in the Mossad where he worked for many years.” Shimon said with a grin.

“We had already heard about the Ukrainian team killed in your yard because it happened only a couple of blocks from where the Daleys live. We were keeping a closer eye on what was happening down there after we learned Alan and Deb were your friends. You seem to get in to all kinds of interesting trouble.”

I held up a hand to protest, but he just waved me off.

“Our own security, admittedly very loose, saw someone planting a camera on a pole near their house so we tightened up a bit and found that someone was watching the family. That alarmed the General and he asked us to find out more. It was obvious almost right away that whoever set up surveillance, did it for security reasons, not for bad things. That puzzled us. When the Brits put out a call for any information we might have on a Ukrainian gangster, then the Americans did the same, it all came together.”

It all made sense, kind of. “So, what now, Mister Neveh?”

“Well, Mister McCoy, the General asked me to see if I could help in any way. While my government has ordered me to be circumspect and to avoid any direct involvement, I am allowed to pass on information as it becomes available if doing so will aid you in ridding the world of another mad dog. So, I wanted to meet you first. A late-night phone call now will be much less suspicious, no?”

I laughed and nodded. “Agreed. Mister Neveh, I do appreciate your help. Right now, at least one woman’s life is in danger and I would like to finish this here to protect other innocents. Please, thank the General for me, should you talk to him, and anyone else who is willing to help.”

“I would be lying if I said that this was totally altruistic, Mister McCoy. On my part, it is, and on the General’s too, I believe, but for my government? Just so you know that they may well call in a marker someday.”

I nodded. “I understand. I have a feeling that I may end up owing several before this is through.”

I escorted him off the plane and then went back to the group gathered around Jake.

“Jack, this is Malcolm Givens, from the Attorney General’s office, the one in Austin, not DC. He has a company of Rangers on call, and two outside who will act as liaisons with us. Don’t look too impressed, the Rangers are good men, but a company is only a dozen.” he added with a grin.

“So, it is one Ranger, one riot, but one Ranger Company to one Ukrainian mobster?” I asked, getting a sour look from the AG’s man and a laugh from Jake.

“The point, Jack, is that these guys can make sure that nothing gets in the way with local law enforcement. No turf wars or jurisdictional issues should pop up as long as these Rangers are with us. The Governor has promised me anything I need to settle this amicably.”

“Amicably? Mister Givens, if you are a lawyer, you might want to stick your fingers in your ears and that goes for you too, Judge. If I get a bead on this mobster, there will be no amicably about it. He goes in a god damned pine box. I would gladly give back the three hundred million and let him walk with the gold if that is what would work, but I know better. His sending a hit squad after me first thing would have told me that. This ends when he is dead. If anyone here doesn’t like it, I am perfectly willing to do this without you.”

There was quiet for several minutes as everyone seemed to exchange glances with everyone else.

“So, where do we start?” Steph piped up, bouncing on her toes and grinning evilly.

“We don’t have much, though this picture and the info on this paper is very helpful. We need to get this out to the locals and then get with the men who are gathering at your hotel, Jack. We need locals who know the area, know the people. Let’s get loaded up and get moving.” Dave said firmly, gesturing to the aircraft’s open door.

Of course, nothing is quite that easy. It was twenty minutes before the Suburbans were even finished being secured and then the loading of baggage and so on, before we could actually leave the airport. The meeting with the Texas Rangers at the foot of the aircraft ladder had not actually delayed things, but the potential had been there.

One of them, when they saw us deplaning, stepped forward and held up his hand.

“I can see that several of you are armed. I will need to see your permits, please.”

Dean, on his crutches, stumped forward and glared down at them, then glared at Givens. “Well, Mister Assistant Attorney General? They work for you, right?”

Givens looked surprised. “Not really. Well, they are under our office, of course, but...”

Jake was rolling his eyes and was pulling out his phone. “I thought this was too easy.” I heard him mutter and he started scrolling through his contacts.

Dean, however, was not finished yet. He pulled out his own badge case and tossed it to the Ranger at the bottom of the stairs. “There is my permit and I have deputized the armed members of this posse, Ranger.”

Dave was trying to hide a grin and the Ranger just looked confused. The second Ranger, an older guy whose salt and pepper hair made him look more like a lawyer than a cop, was just leaning up against an aircraft tow tractor with his arms crossed and a grin on his face.

When he saw me looking his way, he winked and stood.

“Okay, Mike, let the people off the damn plane, will ya?” he said to the younger Ranger.

“But they are carrying on an aircraft and just came from out of state!” the younger guy protested, seemingly sure that he had stumbled across something really, really wrong here.

“Mike, you have good instincts but you have to temper those instincts with a little experience. First, let me introduce you to Jake Reilly. This man owns most of San Antonio, probably most of Dallas and Fort Worth, the entire city of Galveston and probably most of Austin as well. He owns more land here in the state than the King Ranch does. The guy next to him, looking like he could chew railroad spikes, is former Army Special Forces Captain, Dave Foster who was twice put up for the Medal of Honor, but had to settle for Silver Stars instead.”

The older Ranger was walking forward, his thumbs hooked in his belt, while the younger one was looking a bit overwhelmed.

“The lady with him is, if I am not mistaken, Mrs. Elizabeth Turner. I think she owns the bits of Dallas and Fort Worth that Mister Reilly doesn’t. The young lady standing behind her, looking every bit as fierce as Captain Foster, is Stephanie Gibson. Her, you should know, Mike. While Governor Richards opened up the Rangers in 93 to women, Steph was the first ever to qualify for our SRT. Her picture is on the wall at the Academy since she still holds the records for the longest sniper shot in Ranger history. What was it, Steph? 1895 yards or something?”

That last bit he called up the stairs to Steph who was grinning down at the man. It seemed like she knew him as well.

“Glenn, why the hell are you on training duty? You sleep with the wrong wife?” she called down, causing the older deputy to bark out a laugh.

“Now, let me just see if I can point out the others here, shall I?” the Ranger, Glenn, continued, rubbing his hands together. He was enjoying this!

“To Steph’s right is senior Federal Judge, Arturo Ramirez. I have had several cases appear before the good judge during my time with the Department of Public Safety and, later, the Rangers. I don’t know the lawyer type though, so he could be working for just about any of them, though he is standing closer to the young man with the big pistol in a shoulder rig.”

He stared up at me and nodded his head, as though making a decision. “The young man, unless I am mistaken, is Daniel Jackson McCoy, though I hear he likes Jack. He is a bit of an enigma to me, though I think I am familiar with his background. He owns a nice bit of Texas as well and, if rumors are correct, was an emancipated minor at fourteen or fifteen, something like that. His man on the crutches, I don’t know, though I have heard rumors about him too. One of them was obviously true, according to this.” he reached over and plucked the ID from the younger Ranger’s fingers.

While this was going on, we were filtering down the stairs and were finally on the tarmac instead of looking down at people. The younger Ranger had backed off several steps and stood there, his arms crossed, scowling at no one in particular, or maybe everyone present?

“Dean Miller, deputy US marshal, active reserves. Any questions to be referred to the United States Attorney General in person. According to this, government agencies are requested to assist you as directed and then file any grievances, or questions, afterwards. Impressive stuff, Mister Miller.”

Dean stepped forward and offered his hand to the Ranger and, after they shook hands, he deftly retrieved his badge folio and stuck it back in his pocket.

“I was assured that if I abused that authority, they would gladly bury me in someplace like Florence.” Dean said with a shrug.

“So, you are telling us that you have deputized these people? All of them? Even the kid?” The younger Ranger piped up and asked, obviously not willing to let this slide.

“First, I don’t need to deputize any of the security staff, they all hold permits to carry in every single state in the US and in any US territory abroad, both in their person and in their employment. I can and did deputize Jack here. The law states, and I quote, ‘A deputy may deputize such adults as are needed, in the deputy’s assessment, to complete his or her mission.’ Since Jack has been emancipated by a Federal judge, he is indeed an adult and can be deputized if I think it is needed.” Dean said smugly, smiling at the young Ranger.

“Come on, Glenn, that is an excuse and you know it.” he protested, turning to his older partner.

“Mike, you need to relax. You are not patrolling the highway anymore. As a Ranger, sometimes you need to use your judgment and giving a little leeway to people who are obviously not a danger to the public is well within our purview. Besides, no matter what you or I think, this Federal marshal and this Federal Judge both outrank us. Sure, we could get into a Federal versus State pissing contest but, win or lose, you and I would be the biggest losers. The AG and the Governor would not thank us for opening up a can of worms.”

Ranger Parker looked sour but nodded his head and said he would go get their car. I hated to see him pissed off, especially if we needed their help later, but I wasn’t giving up my gun.

The Suburbans were finally loaded and we left the airport in a convoy of sorts. The Suburbans, the Texas Rangers, the AG’s Assistant, the Judge and Terry’s cars, all made for an odd sight since we were being led by, and trailed by, a pair of Texas DPS Dodge Chargers while a DPS chopper flew overhead.

At the hotel, we were met at the underground garage elevator by Mario Echivaria and two men who were in what looked to be civilian tac vests. One of them stepped forward and held his hand out to Dean.

“Gunny, I got six guys, another dozen standing by. This guy here says he worked for Captain Foster?”

“Tomas, good to see you, my friend. This is Jack McCoy, my boss. Good guy, Tomas. This ugly man over here is the ex-Captain Miller and if he vouches for your guy, then you can be sure he is a good guy.”

I shook hands with Tomas LaGrenade as I looked him over. The man was not very tall but was damn near as wide as he was tall! He had a neck as big around as my thigh and his biceps were even bigger. I made sure to check that all my fingers were still working after he let my hand go. He just grinned at me.

“Fancy, good to see you!” I heard Dave say as he stepped forward and shook the other man’s hand, slapping him on the shoulder. “When I called out to Joe at Ft. Sam, he said he had someone I would remember, but I didn’t figure on you.”

“Cap, damn good to see you too! I married a nurse. She’s a damn light bird now, if you can believe that shit. She’s here at the Brooks center now, last out before she retires. When I heard you were coming in and needed some friendly faces with bad memories? Well, I had to dust off my boots.”

“Fancy, this is my boss, Jake Reilly, his friend Liz and her security Steph. Over here is Jack McCoy, the reason we are here and his security, Gunny Miller. With him is his lady, Cam and her security Deb. All good people. Folks, this is James Yancy, the sharpest dressed man in the Special Forces, so we dubbed him Fancy Yancy.”

He shook hands all around before turning back to Dave again. “I got three inside, a dozen waiting elsewhere for a call. Give us the play, Cap.”

When Dave looked at me, the guy looked surprised, but turned his attention to me as well.

“Let’s get upstairs. Mario, have you got accommodations worked out for us?” I asked, turning to greet Mario finally.

“Of course, Mister McCoy. Your party will be staying in the Penthouse, and we have managed to clear the top two floors just in case you need them. That will give you six large suites, four small suites and twenty regular rooms. We also set up our most easily secured conference rooms so you could use it for meetings while you are here.” he said, sounding proud of what he achieved.

“Outstanding! I knew I could count on you, Mario. Right now, all we need is snacks for about twenty and the bar in the Penthouse. In the morning, that will probably change, but I’ll have someone be a liaison between us and the hotel and let you know.”

“Very well, sir! Please, let me know if there is anything at all we can do to make things easier for your people.”

Upstairs, it was starting to feel crowded.

There were the eight of us, Jake, Liz, Cam, Me and our security; Dave, Dean, Steph and Deb, plus the six guys that Jake had hired. Then there were Tomas LaGrenade and his six guys plus James Yancy and his three, plus we had Terry, Judge Ramirez and the two Rangers. The AG’s assistant had left, as had Shimon Neveh. Twenty-eight people in the Penthouse and things were a bit noisy.

I had everyone get themselves a drink and find a place to sit while I made a phone call. I really hadn’t had a chance until now and I wanted to let Luis in Key West know that the Mossad is watching over Alan and Deb. I didn’t want any crossed wires or headaches there!

When I got a hold of him and told him about my meeting with Neveh, he grumbled a bit.

“We spotted them yesterday. From the sounds of it, we should have spotted them earlier though.” he explained. “We are keeping an eye on the two we know of, trying to find out more, tracking them as well as the kids. Now that we know, things are starting to make more sense. I got some damn good men here, but it seemed like we had a bitch of a time finding good concealed spots to watch over the kids. It seemed like the ideal spots always had people around, or things going on. Once or twice, that is par for the course, but every one, every day? We were wondering if we had lost our touch or something.”

“If you can make quiet contact, and they can convince you that they got this, you can pull back to my place and my boat. Let them know they can call you if they need help though.”

“You got it, Boss.”

Back in the living room area, everyone was sitting and talking quietly. Cam handed me an iced tea as soon as I walked back in from my office and slipped her arm around my waist. All eyes had turned to me and the conversations stopped, but I was not about to pretend I knew how to brief folks for something like this.

“Dave, please. You are more experienced.” I said, finding a place where I could sit and pulling Cam down into my lap. She rewarded me with a kiss and a wiggle that almost distracted me.

“Okay folks, this is where we stand.”

Dave when through a concise assessment of where we were and what we wanted to achieve. He handed the single photo we had of our target to his guy, then asked me to send a picture of Rene to the man as well. He would get photo prints enlarged for everyone so that everybody knew what we were looking for.

He had his guy and Dean’s guy send their men out on the street, putting out the word that it was distinctly unhealthy to be Ukrainian if our target was even in the same state, and that a big cash reward would be paid out, no questions asked, if the targets whereabouts were given to us.

He asked the Rangers to interface with the local PD and the Judge was going to contact the Local FBI, Homeland, DEA and ICE people, leaving the marshals to Dean. We were going to field a small army of people on the street.

When he asked for questions, suggestions or concerns, I pointed out that while there were no answers or returned calls from Rene at home or her office, we also hadn’t heard from Sylvie, Rene’s wife. We needed to get people over to their home and offices, see if they could locate her. I also wanted someone, probably a local police officer, to be sitting around on the Carver household, just in case.

He agreed with all of the suggestions and farmed those jobs out appropriately. The one thing he didn’t do, and shot down when I tried to suggest it, was to let me go out and look, stir things up.

Jake had a suggestion that made sense too. He suggested we make a bunch of noise like we are having a hard time busting that much gold free from the government reserves and are looking for it on the street. Nine tons of gold is not something your local numismatist or jeweler would have on hand, after all! Having that rumor out there might cloud things, make the guy think that yes, we were looking for him but we were also preparing for payment, just in case.

Once the teams had scattered, Cammie and I sat down with Terry.

“Cam, my mother loves you to death! She said that she wishes she could trade me or one of my brothers in on you, since she never had a little girl.” Terry told her, making Cam giggle.

“Jack, Cam has picked up what Mom has to show her like she was born to this. Your Charity is funded and fully set up already, the paperwork is done. The search for an able administrator is underway and we have set up that separate endowment just like you asked. The Timothy Burton Dowdy Memorial Trust is live and is searching for the right university, the right researcher, to fund. This is specific to Childhood Leukemia research only, correct?”

I just nodded, thinking of the day that Burt had told me about his son.

“That ten million will be annual, funded by the bigger trust. Damn, I just remembered, I have new cards for you both down in the car. They don’t have your name or anything on them, they just show the Demeter Trust and the trust contact info. I thought you would like to have a few in case you ever need to give them out.”

“I saw the name that you decided on, sweetheart, but keep forgetting to ask why Demeter?” I asked, since Cam was a captive audience on my lap and I would probably forget again if I didn’t!

“Jacques, Demeter is the Greek goddess who was the protective and caring mother figure. Since you didn’t want notoriety and I don’t either, I thought we should have a name that is not associated with us at all. I looked for historical figures first, but each one I came across would have been misunderstood or linked with some religion or belief system. Since the Greek pantheon is almost universal these days and not worshiped, not really, I thought it was safe.”

“I think it is cool, I was just curious and kept forgetting to ask. Back to your question, yes. Go ahead and fund the Dowdy trust from Demeter and keep it funded as long as the parent trust has the funds. We transferred fifty million into Demeter, right? Did we add in the ten to start out the Leukemia trust?”

Terry nodded, checking something on his tablet. “Yep. Right now, we have the funds invested through a broker I trust, with fifty percent in very secure, but lower interest funds, twenty five percent in growth funds and twenty five percent in high risk funds, per the charter. We took the ten from the Demeter trust but I can replace it from your funds if you want?”

“Go ahead, I want Demeter to have a full fifty to start. Then one last bit of business about the trusts. When you find that researcher who is on the cutting edge; who is actually working on a cures and not bureaucratic bullshit, you need to invite this man to whatever ceremony we have at the university. I read that they love ceremonies for research grants as it attracts even more money. Anyway, this is Timothy Dowdy’s father and I think he would probably like to attend. Fly him out to wherever and put him up on the trust.”

Terry just nodded and took down Agent Dowdy’s info on his pad, then moved on to other things.

“I looked into those investment opportunities you sent me and have already funded our portion of the building in Century City, Los Angeles. We did that under an LLC, the Reilly McCoy Investment Pool LLC, to be exact. I also put a hundred million into that Real Estate Investment Trust you wanted, it should do well if everything I read is right.”